Phoenix (The Bellator Saga Book 4)

by Cecilia London

  “I want to make you come again,” he whispered. “How many orgasms can I coax out of you tonight?”

  When he said that he usually tried for double digits. She wasn’t sure she had the energy for that. Jack moved inside her and she screamed.

  “Do that,” he said. “Be as loud as you want, and I’ll keep going.”

  He would keep on saying those things, staying inside her, waiting for her to react to his voice. She didn’t know how much she could take.

  “Please,” she choked out. “Shut up and fuck me.”

  He tugged at her hair. “Anything you say,” he groaned, thrusting in and out, harder and harder, until he spurted inside her in a shudder.

  It took her a minute to recover. She thought he’d hold out longer, maybe give her another orgasm or three, but his stamina was far from gone. Caroline ran her hands down his back as he trailed kisses from her neck to her ear.

  “Those groupies are no competition for you, Caroline,” he panted. “None.”

  “I know.” She wrapped her arms around him and laughed, looking to her side. “We’re like a foot from the bed. You couldn’t have dragged me there first?”

  “I like fucking you on the floor better. The floor, the wall, the chair, the bathtub, the shower, the couch…don’t even get me started on our house in Philadelphia. Although the bed is occasionally nice.”

  Jack pulled her to a sitting position on the floor and Caroline glanced down at his pants. “That’ll be an interesting visit to the dry cleaner,” she said.

  “She’s a wonderfully discreet woman.” He kissed her, slow and gentle. Soft. The kind of kiss that meant he’d want more later. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  Caroline smiled as he withdrew from her and stood up. “You’re saying that because I give you blow jobs any time you want.”

  “You’ll also do me on the carpet.”

  “No rug burn this time, though.”

  “No. But we can always try again.” He pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “Are we going to sleep?”

  He laughed. “What do you think?”

  * * * * *

  Caroline rolled over, trying to figure out what was going on. Why was it so hard to move?

  Oh, because she had her fucking hand down her shorts.

  “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, running her other hand through her hair. When was the last time that had happened? Not in months. Maybe over a year. Why was it happening now, of all times?

  Don’t think about him. Don’t. Think about something, anything else.

  She flashed to her cell at The Fed.

  Except that. Don’t think about that.

  She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around her pillow, hoping she’d be able to get back to sleep. Hoping she wouldn’t dream of Jack, or anyone else. Hoping she could stop thinking about all the things that hurt.

  * * * * *

  “When I told you to ask Jack to put me on a statewide task force, I was kidding,” Christine said.

  Caroline smiled. “Are you saying there are things you’d rather do with your day than sit through a three hour meeting on crime statistics and hot zone mapping?”

  Christine made a very unladylike face. “You’re the one who loves that wonky stuff. Next time make me a figurehead or the grand marshal of a parade or something.”

  “You love it,” Caroline said. “And you wore the same color as me. Nice.”

  They were both sporting navy blue suits and white blouses, though Caroline’s had faint red stripes. Along with two stunning pairs of red patent leather heels. Totally unplanned.

  Kathleen laughed at the two of them as she snapped a picture. “You forgot to send each other the memo about matching outfits,” she said. “I’m posting this on Twitter. Just need to think of a tasteless hashtag first.”

  “You’d better check with Chrissy,” Caroline said. “You know how picky she is.”

  Her chief of staff gave her the most innocent look she could manage. Very impressive. “About hashtags or about photos?” Kathleen asked.

  Caroline grinned. “What the fuck do you think?”

  “Language, Caroline. Really.” Christine pointed at the phone in Kathleen’s hand. “Did you at least get my good side?”

  Kathleen studied the image. “I think so. Your hair looks phenomenal.”

  “Then it’s fine.”

  “Good. I was going to post it no matter what you said.”

  Christine turned to Caroline. “I find your chief of staff a wee bit obnoxious.”

  Such remarkable restraint. “Just a wee bit?”

  “I’m trying to be polite.”

  “Please don’t be polite. I need you to be snarky today. In your zone, if you will.”

  “Snarky? Zone?”

  Kathleen chuckled. “The intern. Oh, the intern. Caroline, give it a rest.”

  “Intern?” Christine asked. “You mean that young woman I saw on the way in here? The one in the skirt?”

  Caroline turned to Kathleen. “See? It’s not just me.”

  “Senator Sullivan is a square. Are you sure you want to be on the same page as her? No offense,” Kathleen said to Christine.

  “None taken.” Christine frowned. “I had no idea they sold pleather miniskirts anymore. Or that anyone would think they were appropriate business dress.”

  “Yes!” Caroline exclaimed. “Exactly.”

  Christine picked a stray hair from Caroline’s suit jacket. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about an intern. Honestly, Punky. You think she’s any competition for you? Jack would never do anything like that.”

  “I know,” she said, touched that her best friend had such faith in Jack. Caroline knew she could trust her husband but was glad Chrissy had gotten on the bandwagon too. “I just find Kelsey annoying. I wanted someone to kvetch with.”

  “Oh, I’ll kvetch,” Christine said. “I’ll kvetch until the cows come home. I might have done it even if you said you liked her.”

  Chrissy was always a good blend of loyalty and frank honesty. Caroline patted her arm. “You don’t need to kvetch per se. Just be yourself.”

  “How’s that?”

  Oh, Christine was begging for Caroline to return the favor. “You know. Intimidating. Bitchy. Unapproachable. Catty.”

  “Such nice things for you to say to the bestie you haven’t seen in almost a month.”

  Caroline gave her a little hug to reassure her a little. “I live to give.”

  “What is going on with this Kelsey girl?”

  There was no time to tell the whole story. It might be better to let Christine do her thing without much guidance. “Just pay attention. That’s all I ask.”

  Kathleen cleared her throat. “We should probably head over there. We don’t want to be late.”

  That was definitely a hint that they were running behind. “Then let’s go,” Caroline said.

  Christine scooped up her purse. “Jeanine is waiting for us.” She had retained her campaign manager as her chief of staff, an interesting decision since Jeanine had never served in that capacity with anyone else. But the two of them seemed to be doing all right.

  “I’m hurt that she didn’t want to see my office,” Caroline said.

  “She’s recovering from all the time she spent with you during the campaign. But her therapist says she’s making a significant amount of progress.”

  “Good. Snark it up, Chrissy. Use it. Feel it. Be it.”

  Christine laughed as they entered the conference room. “We’re the first ones here. I’m not sure that’s ever happened before.”

  When they were in Congress, the two of them often sauntered into meetings late. A habit that Caroline blamed entirely on Christine. She saw Chrissy’s chief of staff in a chair near the back of the room. “Hi, Jeanine.”

  Jeanine nodded her hello and resumed checking her email.

  “You weren’t kidding,” Caroline whispered.

  Christine raised her eyebrows. “Of course I
wasn’t.”

  “Katie, are you going to hang out here during the meeting?” Caroline asked.

  “I very well might,” Kathleen said. “Although I do want to finish that paper clip sculpture I started yesterday.”

  Christine took one of the chairs at the table. “You two are bored out of your minds, aren’t you?”

  “Sometimes.” Caroline slid into the seat next to Christine. “But we have a decent amount of fun.”

  Christine pulled a copy of Vanity Fair out of her purse. “Have you seen this yet?”

  “What is it?”

  Christine handed the magazine to her. “It’s a lovely profile of the Governor and First Lady of Pennsylvania.”

  She’d forgotten about that interview. “Is it any good?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Caroline examined the cover. A breathtaking image of the two of them, with Jack sitting down and her standing next to him. He had his arm around her while she kept her elbow perched on his shoulder. They looked stunning, if she said so herself. Definitely more Hollywood than Harrisburg. It was mesmerizing. Would it be rude to contact the photographer to ask for a print? “I know this sounds shallow and anti-feminist, but God bless the man who invented the airbrush.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t a woman?” Christine asked.

  “You’re right. That was presumptuous of me. God bless the man or woman who invented the airbrush, and the man or woman who invented smoky eye makeup. I look sexy.” Caroline flipped through the pages. She caught a few images of her and Jack – her giving the keynote address at the Democratic convention, a shot of the two of them at their wedding, one from Jack’s inaugural, pictures from his years at Villanova and Wharton, a family portrait taken the previous spring, and a fantastic photo of Jack spontaneously lifting Caroline up in the air after he’d won the governor’s race.

  Christine laughed. “There are some great older pictures of you in here too, including when you were a federal prosecutor. But this is by far my favorite. I’d never seen it before.”

  She pointed at the page and Caroline looked closer. A grayscale photo of her and Nicky from the night she scored her upset win in the Democratic primary during her first election, captured at the precise moment she realized her victory. The surprise and elation on her face was priceless. Nicky looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

  “I was so young,” Caroline said. “Wow.”

  “How old were you, anyway?” Christine asked.

  “Hmm, thirty-one? Katie was like twelve.”

  “I was twenty-two,” Kathleen said. “That’s the only reason you let me drink.”

  “You looked about twelve back then. Too bad you’re not in the picture.”

  “Don’t you remember what I was doing?”

  Caroline laughed and turned to Christine. “Nicky had been holding Sophie but passed her off since she was getting a little fussy and Katie was a total toddler whisperer. Feef then promptly pooped her diaper.”

  Kathleen grimaced. “That was unnatural. Jen had to help me out because I had no idea what I was doing. Toddler whisperer my ass. Nick knew she was ready to blow and wanted to abdicate responsibility.”

  “That’s the reason you and Nick are flying solo in the picture?” Christine asked.

  “That’s the reason I’m never having children,” Kathleen said.

  Christine patted Kathleen on the shoulder. “So, Punky. Did your eldest child wander off or was she crunching exit numbers in the corner?”

  “Mo was with my mother,” Caroline said. “We convinced her that the celebration was for her birthday. They were eating cake or something. Mom was bummed she missed out on the moment but she always loved that picture.” Caroline ran her fingers over the image. “That was a great party. We both look so happy.”

  “That’s because you thought you didn’t have a chance in hell,” Kathleen pointed out. “Upset of the season. Maybe even recent Maryland history.”

  Caroline decided to push it a little. “No,” she said. “It’s because I hadn’t met Chrissy yet. Everything went to shit after that and I became no fun at all.”

  “Watch it,” Christine clucked.

  “You know you love me.”

  “It’s not a bad article.” Christine smiled faintly. “You really haven’t read it?”

  “No, I’d forgotten it was coming out today. Did they interview you for it?”

  “Briefly. I told them pleasant things.”

  “In other words, you lied.”

  “Only for you.”

  Caroline browsed through the pages. “Here’s a picture of the two of us. That’s nice. From back when you were a natural blond, even.”

  Christine snatched the magazine out of her hands. “I take back all those brilliant things I said about you and am no longer letting you peruse my reading material.”

  Caroline took the magazine back. “Too bad they didn’t use that badass photo from the last campaign cycle.”

  A snapshot of Caroline and Christine walking into a luncheon with sunglasses on, jackets draped over their shoulders, and looking quite serious, had made the rounds on the internet during the summer before the election. Caroline liked to call it their Cagney and Lacey pose. It was transformed into a meme but for once she didn’t mind the attention.

  “I am as devastated as you are,” Christine said. “My hair was perfect that day.”

  “And we both looked tough as nails.”

  “Proof that my influence has a positive effect.”

  Caroline flipped through the article again. “There aren’t any pictures of…you know in here, right?”

  Christine blinked. “No. I wouldn’t have shown it to you if there was.”

  “I told them not to spend too much time on it if they mentioned it at all.”

  Caroline couldn’t even use the proper words for what had happened at the Capitol Visitor’s Center and rarely spoke of it. Aside from the two of them receiving recognition from the Speaker of the House and the President, neither Caroline nor Christine had discussed the matter in public more than once or twice, even during fluffy interviews.

  She studied the layout with a critical eye. “They made me look like Natalie Wood. That’s so cool.”

  “Jack doesn’t look too shabby, either.”

  “That man doesn’t take a bad photograph. No airbrushing necessary.”

  Christine glanced at the cover again. “I’m glad the two of you were able to keep from looking too provocative. What with your reputation and all.”

  A hint of sarcasm but on the whole the image was pretty benign. “They wanted us to take a seductive picture in an elevator but I wasn’t going to go down that road.”

  “They didn’t,” Christine said.

  “They did. You must not read Vanity Fair that often.”

  Christine looked around the conference table. “Didn’t want you draped all over him while you were posing for pictures in this room?”

  Jack walked in and smiled at both of them. “They wanted her to wrap her legs around my neck but I told them that was for after the shoot was over.”

  Caroline laughed as Christine blushed. “Jack, really. Don’t make Chrissy metaphorically clutch her pearls. The meeting hasn’t even started yet.”

  “I’m sorry. What I should have said is that we only do things like that in my office after hours. And by the way, hello to you, Senator Sullivan,” Jack said, without a hint of shame. “Thank you for agreeing to serve on this task force.”

  Christine cleared her throat. “Governor,” she said. “I shall remember you in my prayers this Sunday.”

  “Good thing there are no interns in here,” Kathleen quipped.

  “They should arrive any minute,” Jack said.

  “You’re not going to remember me in your prayers?” Caroline asked.

  Christine sighed. “I pray for you much more than one day a week. You’re a big project.”

  Jack picked up the magazine. “Nicely done from what I can tell.�
� He smiled at Caroline. “That’s a great picture of you and Nick. I’d never seen that before.”

  Caroline shrugged. “I’d practically forgotten about it.”

  “You shouldn’t have. You both looked great.”

  “What about the ones of us? Still regretting not letting them talk us into posing for a more seductive layout?”

  Jack kissed her cheek. “No way. We’re keeping that private. Although I wouldn’t have objected to a centerfold.”

  Caroline laughed as the interns filed into the room. “For you, or me?”

  “Why not both?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Christine said. “I hope the two of you are sitting at opposite ends of the room during this thing.”

  Caroline smiled. “Jack’s all important so he sits at the head of the table. I’m sticking by you whether you like it or not.”

  Christine was now in full aloof senator mode, but Caroline saw her lips turn up. “I can live with that.”

  The meeting started late since some of the members of law enforcement were tardy. Caroline understood they had commitments that couldn’t always fit a schedule, but it remained annoying. The police officers and state troopers sat at the head of the table next to Jack as a sheriff from a tiny county in central Pennsylvania droned on about crime statistics. Caroline stole a glance at the representative from Philadelphia, who was shaking his head. The differences between small town policing and the challenges of an urban area were vast.

  Jack took over the last half of the meeting, so Caroline did her best to pay attention. She almost yelped when Christine poked her notepad into her arm.

  That’s Kelsey, correct? She’s wearing that unfortunate skirt, she had written, with an arrow pointing toward the opposite wall.

  Sure enough, Kelsey sat there with her eyes glued to Jack. And they weren’t exactly focused on his face. Caroline grabbed the notepad. Smart you are, my young Padawan.

  Christine scribbled next to Caroline’s note. I’m on it.

  Caroline tried to focus on what Jack was saying, but it was difficult. When he made a flip comment that got a brief chuckle out of one of the agents at his side, she heard far too bubbly laughter coming from the seats on the other side of the room. But of course. Kelsey.